One of Us (English Version)
by Lord Xolotl
Summary: Inspired by "Hiddlesworth" Internet's phenomenon, "One of Us" is an original story by Isaac Xolo, a novel that rewrites the reality know by all through the songs of ABBA. Translated by La Jurídico & Beto-chan.
1. Arrival

**Prologue**

This story is about love. How many have not talked about such affection, and how many will not do so in the future? It is a feeling, in the words of Austen, "It is a truth universally acknowledged". Therefore, as Plato did it, I too will talk about love; about emotions and feelings, and souls that have the jubilant fortune of being reunited through time.

Ideas and stories have always troubled my mind. Most of them survive the conversion to paper, but later on they expire or are transformed. This time I had an urgent need, as never before, to write this. Impressed by the unique relationship between _Tom Hiddleston_ and _Chris Hemsworth_, I found the impetus, and inspiration to finally do it. Designed as a short, light story, born from an expressive need, like most fiction, _One of Us_ arrived. Exceeding my expectations, my own writing matured and even my creativity itself. I consider it today my Opera Prima.

So, taking the internet's phenomenon _Hiddlesworth_ as creative material, I started developing a plot, which was enriched with every passing day. It was clear what I would do, but how was something I discovered until later. Looking for originality and recognition, I thought the way to go. What, how, where, and when. I did some research, I made notes, and, going through a long process of analysis, I concluded to retell the reality known by everybody, one different to mine, and more similar to the one of _Tom Hiddleston_ and _Chris Hemsworth_.

Why ABBA?

Since I saw _Mamma Mia!_, the musical, and I became fan of ABBA's music, I listened more carefully to their lyrics. After a while, I had a vague idea of writing a story that focused more on the lyrics of the Swedish group, or was based on it. It was an ABBAcadabra! When I found that couple of pictures of _Tom Hiddleston_ and _Chris Hemsworth_ while the media player was reproducing a song of ABBA (I think it's obvious which song it was), I thought it would be a short, and simple tale, and I started with five songs, and as I moved forward, the plot asked for more and more; then, everything changed through them, from the names of the main characters, to the places in which they lived.

Why Hiddlesworth?

As I mentioned before, I was impressed by the relationship of these two actors. Although I had seen their work in _Thor_ and _The Avengers_, it was until _Thor: The Dark World_ where they managed to impress me greatly, it was there where I saw a more authentic communication between them, and therefore in the characters. And precisely looking for that, I toured the network greedy of what I had seen in the movie, so I found a world of stories and fictions, some new and interesting, and other perverse and absurd.

Without finding that satisfaction that I was longing for, I decided to make my own story, it would be something simple and with no higher aim than to fill a gap. However, this took proportions I never imagined, and I'm proud of the result today. I wanted to write this story held in a world where the music of ABBA was the stage; and in that place to rewrite the reality we all already know, but where love caught them and even faced them.

It wasn't my intention either to make a biography, but to part from reality, I should stick to certain parameters. After being transferred to this new existence, undoubtedly they would evolve into characters. But how would I feel them as mine, closer to me, without first turning them into characters? How would I give them a new identity without making them lose their essence?

Reinventing them from themselves, getting help from phonetic and grammatical games to make reminiscent of the originals, _Thomas Willdeston_ and _Christopher Hentzwood _were born. Anyone who crossed this threshold would be rewritten, as well as the facts that would be covered. That is why all have changed beyond simple name; not only the characters, but also other components. Some of them will be instantly recognizable, others not immediately. However, they are present; countless elements converge in it, from specific situations to specific comments.

This way I sketched my version of _Tom Hiddleston_ and _Chris Hemsworth_ in a tribute to the fantastic relationship, done with the deepest of respect towards their careers, and their lives.

I have erased the line between reality and fantasy, providing _One of Us _with a fresh and renewed look, filling it with details that the fans can evoke and enjoy; but at the same time, filling it with common themes of interest to other readers not so familiar. Born from a true and genuine inspiration. It goes beyond portraying the homosexual relationship between two men, but without losing the simplicity of a love story.

Unraveling the speech will not be my task in this presentation, but yours later. Hopefully, you will go further from the prologue, and let yourself fall for this new world that I've made for you, I hope you have fun, and a good time, as I have had while creating it.

Sincerely

Isaac Xolo

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1. Arrival<strong>

—Do I accept? —He thought. It was his big chance. The push he needed. He felt a strange melancholy for not getting the lead role, but in spite of that he was happy. He was part of the project, and that made him happy. He always thanked God for such opportunities, all of them were a challenge, an obstacle to overcome and a place to test his abilities.

He had the same feeling he had had thirteen years before, when he had been called to the director's office of the theater company. On that occasion, he would receive his first job offer.

The executives reached out their hands to him. He hold each hand tightly to endorse the word that was put on the paper. Seldom he used his full name, he did not like it because he thought it sounded quite pompous; his mother, on the other hand, encouraged him to use it without presumption, but to do so with pride, because it symbolized the work and effort of many years. Because it was such a huge achievement, he took the pen strongly and made, with exquisite calligraphy, an elegant signature that read _Thomas Willdeston_. His handwriting was so clean, that even the _i_ had its point well rounded and marked.

He left the office with a subtle smile and without feeling nervous anymore. He looked at his watch, in fifteen minutes it would be six o'clock, if he hurried, he would be able to join Elinor and Marianne for tea on time. He needed a delicious and comforting infusion; he deserved it after so many emotions. Perhaps, a red fruits tea, since it goes great in autumn or maybe one of those extravagant roots that Marianne always got from the Hindu shops, and that Elinor had never dared to taste.

—It would be an excellent idea to try something different today, it could do for the news that I'll be giving them —he said out loud, as he rubbed his hands in the back seat of the taxi.

—But! —He exclaimed—, we will need some snacks, anything with chocolate perhaps? Although, Elinor hates chocolate, but Marianne and I love it. Tough decision. Salty snacks maybe? Although, I like chocolate so much; besides, it's fall, and we should celebrate. Elinor will eat chocolate, I'm sure. I think so.

He smiled again, like a kid with a new toy. He told the driver to deviate in _Saint Anni-Frid_, and turn to _Andersson Park_, where he bought six muffins, five of them covered with chocolate, while the other one had frosting on it. He could not be rude to Elinor, even though sometimes he was a little intolerant to him.

He paid the driver, and as every Friday, little James looked at him through the window. At any moment, the child would run towards him and, as a thank you, he would give him a muffin. And so it was, the only unfortunate detail was that the child had chosen the frosted muffin. He could not tell the kid to choose another one, he was too "feeble"; Elinor called him that, she faulted him of not having the right character to be a good father, if he was going to be one. On the other hand, Marianne told him that his future children would have a loving and gentle father. He turned the key and the door of the apartment yielded. The smell of Elinor's apple pie completely flooded his nose. He left his belongings on a small table next to the entrance, and went to the kitchen where his two sisters were talking.

—You have finally arrived, little brother —said Marianne, holding the dishes she had just washed. Elinor smiled subtly. They were waiting for an answer.

—It's done! —Thomas announced cheerfully.

—What? —Asked Elinor.

—I signed! I'm on the project!

Marianne dropped the plate in the kitchen sink, and ran to hug him while she kissed him repeatedly. Elinor was a quiet person; she simply gave him a warm and sincere hug. He told them every detail of his interview with the directors and the executives.

—Tomorrow, I'm talking to the director, and meeting part of the cast —he stated, excitedly.

—But, the villain? I cannot imagine it, you're so sweet —Marianne protested, as she refilled his cup of tea.

—He's capable of that, and more. Our brother is very talented. Besides, if he could play a "space boy", he can do anything, Marianne.

—Thanks, Elinor —Thomas replied, with a certain irony—, it's the kindest thing you have said to me in months.

—Don't be a child —she murmured not looking up, and still moving the spoon in the cup—. I'm not complaining about your rudeness, you only brought chocolate muffins, knowing that I don't like it.

—Oh, that! You see, I brought a frosted muffin too, but I found James in the hallway, and...

—Yes, yes, yes, I know the rest of the story. Feeble.

Thomas smiled subtly, he knew his sister was not really upset, but that form of fighting was the way they used to express the great love they felt for each other. The doorbell rang, interrupting their game. Marianne approached the intercom. The voice of the building's concierge informed them of the arrival of a package. Elinor stood up, taking the tea service with her, while Thomas got close to his other sister, in order to get more details.

The package was addressed to him, and it was wrapped in a thick white paper, stamped with Malwer's logo, the company that hired him. His eyes shone with excitement. He did not want to wait any longer to know its contents, and he opened it quickly. He found an envelope that was of the same color of the package; he put it in the table for a moment, and returned to his cup of tea. He took a little sip of the tea, red fruits, delicious in autumn, his favorite time of the year. He looked out the window, and sighed, leaving the cup, and went back to the envelope. He took a bunch of pages, and make them rest on his lap. He settled into the cushions of the couch, as he lifted the bound. On its front, in the center of the page, the title was protruded with big letters. His sisters, who had witnessed the whole ritual, were able to read the words: _LORD_.

They noticed his eagerness for reading the script; his face looked like a little thrilled child's. They took their things without him realizing their intention to leave. However, he did notice when he saw them putting gloves on their hands.

—Where are you going?

—We should do some shopping before going back home —Elinor replied.

—But we are celebrating.

—Come on, little brother! What you really want is to read that, so do it, we have things to do. Come on, don't worry —Marianne reaffirmed.

On the one hand, he was sad for not spending more time with them, but the craving for reading the script as soon as possible, was real. He would not see his sisters until Christmas, which was why he hugged them so tightly. Elinor was tall as him, while Marianne almost reached his neck. He asked them not to tell their parents; he would do it over the phone or during a quick trip. He watched them getting on board of the taxi. From the window, he said goodbye again, and returned to the couch, to the same position.

It had been three years since his graduation from the academy, it was not his first job, but he was as excited as if it were. He smiled, he could not help it. Within a few months, he would have to travel to Paris to learn more about the production. He knew very little about the movie. Only that it was an epic story about knights, swords, castles, damsels, honor, love, magic, and power. It was based on a successful comic, so his expectations increased.

He finished reading near dawn. He thought about the whole story for a few minutes and then he stood before the mirror; he wanted to prepare his character right away. He would show himself to their peers as a professional person, and committed to the job. He chose faces, attitudes, gestures, words; he needed to give life to Count "Lucio" of Asgrod cousin Lord Daniel, the main character. Both are candidates to inherit the crown of King Olson, but when the Count discovers the truth about his origin, he will do anything to Lord Daniel remove from his path.

He dreamed all night about the Count and his cousin. He awoke full of energy and very hungry. He was thinking about breakfast when he discovered that Elinor had solved the dilemma: oatcakes with honey, scrambled eggs and coffee. He preened, trying not to look so formal, but he could not help it, because he preferred dress pants rather than jeans, and a dress shirt more than t-shirts. Without realizing, he ended up dressing formally. In the end, he decided to be the same as usual.

At noon, he was in the elevator of the McWayne Tower, where the Malwer producing offices were. He pressed the button for the fifteenth floor and looked up to confirm his destination. He watched a man walking away, he assumed he was trying to take the elevator, so he stopped the door when it was about to close. The man, no, the youngster thanked him for the gesture. Thomas concluded that it was an outsider because his accent was strange, it sounded somewhat like the speaking of southern Britain.

—What floor are you going? —Thomas asked politely. He indicated that the fifteenth. What a coincidence, they were going to the same place. Thomas lowered his arm and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Watching the ceiling, he met the reflection of the boy's face above the elevator door. He found out that the other watching him. They both laughed nervously, but neither looked away from one another. They examined each other, without blinking, trying to discover their secrets. Could it be they knew each other from somewhere else? If it was so, where?

Thomas had a very good memory, he never forgot a face so easily, and much less one like that, really attractive. He was tall, just a few inches taller than him; he had dark caramel blonde hair, very short; he had a full beard, just filling his chin and cheeks; his lips were long, and thin; he had blue eyes, like the ocean itself, as a tempestuous and devastating tsunami, its depth was bewitching him. He even forgot what he was doing in that elevator, and where he was going. Although it was thin, his body was athletic; serious, but polite attitude. He wore jeans, suede shoes, plaid unbuttoned shirt, revealing a grey t-shirt underneath. To his mind came Lord Daniel, remembering the reason for his presence in that place.

—He could be a perfect Lord —he thought. He had the bearing of a hero. Thomas did not see that look on himself; however, he recognized that the boy possessed it.

The elevator door opened, both left without saying anything else. Thomas turned left and the boy turned right. A nervous laugh came out of him uncontrollably; he rubbed his hands, and turned the doorknob. The assistant invited him in immediately; the producers were waiting for the director, and some actors. He shook his hand, greeting everyone, and sat down when he was told to. One of them, who had interviewed him the day before, asked him if he had read the script.

—I did when I received it yesterday, I took a look.

—So you know what this is about?

—I like the story…

—That's good.

—I think I can do a lot about my character, Count Lucio.

—The name is pronounced as in ancient Latin, "Lukio".

—Oh! I'm sorry, okay. The Count Lucio —he pronounced correctly—, cousin of Lord Daniel.

—By the way, you'll meet him today. It is very important that you both get along understand, he will be your support at all times. Most of the scenes are with him or referring to him.

—I know.

—I need both to be supportive. Now, let's review some scenes, and do something spontaneous.

—Ok.

—You know what? Let me get him. No, you better come with me, and go straight to the small studio where we did the first tests. Please, follow me.

The guy rose up, and Thomas did the same. They left the office, and crossed two doors. They went down stairs, and came to a small set decorated in the style of the Middle Ages. There was a large oak table, long chairs, and wooden cups. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling. Thomas was watching every detail when the door opened, bringing back two more fellows, one of them would be Lord Daniel, the other would be the director, or another partner. His face drew surprise when he saw that, indeed, was the director accompanied by the elevator boy.

The director greeted him cordially.

—You are on board, huh? Glad to have you again. This will be great —he said, approaching Thomas, and embracing him with a tight hug—. I'm pleased to work with you again. Allow me to introduce you to your next partner in this adventure. He will be your nemesis, your counterpart, your yang. Lord Daniel himself, I introduce you to you Christopher.

The lad extended his hand.

—I'm Chris. Nice to meet you —he smiled.

Thomas received the greeting, and before he could answer, the manager stopped to question them about the script.

—You know that the script is based on an eighties cartoon, right? —He looked at Thomas and he nodded. He talked to Christopher—. Well, he is already familiar with this topic. A few years ago, we worked on another project, quite interesting, Tom started in theater; he was just a kid! And I was still an amateur, but I have experience with adaptations of comics, right, Tom?

—It's true —he confirmed, crossing his arms.

—You can have a disadvantage with that Chris, but Tom will help.

Christopher was silent.

Thomas, proud of his presentation, he mentioned some details of the story of _LORD_. For moments, he had second thoughts about choosing Christopher, but after analyzing it, he realized that he was perfect for Lord Daniel; he had thought it a few moments ago in the elevator without knowing who he was. He just needed to give it a try, that's all.

—Thomas Willdeston —he expressed with no intention of looking formal.

—Oh! —The boy exclaimed—. Christopher Hentzwood.

His accent was sneaky, had a rustic, charming, and manly tune. A characteristic obtained in the lands where he had been born, and grown: the distant Australia. Christopher had just arrived to Europe. He worked for a few months in America, simple productions. However, his small role in the movie _Galaxy Gorgeous_ made him throughout the continent. Months ago, his brother Leo, and him left family and friends to come to fulfill their dreams. Leo wanted to be a singer, and Christopher an actor.

Both were still holding hands. Thomas's hand was so thin and smooth between Christopher's, which was large and scratchy. One last squeeze and they would release each other. But it did not happen. They studied each other, without losing eye, and body contact.

The director gave them a copy of the script, some _LORD_ comic books, and asked them to review a few pages. They finally dropped their hands. The manager apologized because he had to attend an important issue, and left them alone. Christopher glanced quickly the script, while Thomas was looking for specific scenes, or the ones he had liked the most. Then he checked one of the comic books, and looked back at Christopher, he wanted to rectify the election. And he discovered Christopher gazing with fascination the atmosphere of the place. Thomas laughed slightly, and a little annoyed, since he imagined his partner was not committed enough. Thomas kept his smile on his face, and Christopher stared back at him.

—What! —He said, raising his shoulders lightly.

—Nothing! —Thomas said, but instantly continued—. I don't know why you were chosen.

—What?

—Let me be honest —he said with his hands in prayer position—, Why? I mean, you haven't even read the script yet.

—Who told you I haven't?

—It's obvious.

—What?

—Your appearance —Christopher began to laugh, after he heard him—. It's clear that Lord Daniel should look like you.

—In fact, I look like Lord Daniel, he doesn't look like me —Christopher rebutted, showing him the cover of one of comics—. I have nothing of Lord Daniel, besides he has big muscles —he said flexing his arm—, my arms are not so exaggerated!

—I don't understand.

—Did you also audition for Lord Daniel?

—Maybe…

—My brother did; in fact, I'm here thanks to him. If I told you, you wouldn't believe me —Christopher said as he walked to the table and made himself comfortable on a chair—. Come, sit. I'll tell you.

Strangely, Thomas's little irritation was gone because of Christopher's smile. With absolute joy, he took place beside his companion, and heard his story.

—If you already have the script, why not rehearse a scene or some dialogues? —Thomas asked alarmed.

—I've been on three different continents in the past two weeks. My body has suffered the temperature changes, I had a slight fever, and I was tired. It's not an excuse. But, honestly, I didn't feel like doing anything, much less rehearse.

The kick of Christopher sounded like a punch line, which was dreadful, and expected to cause laughter. And it did, Thomas burst into laughter, but it was the same that emerged spontaneously to disguise his nervousness. Christopher continued.

—You know what I mean, eh? The runny nose, and the headache, it's horrible. I guess Sidney made me used to its warm climate.

—Are you from Australia?

—Yeah.

—Oh right! The accent!

—Yeah, the accent.

Thomas noticed a tiny discomfort faded among Christopher's words.

—Which I think it's very nice, it sounds so masculine, virile. I do not know, I like it —he expressed cheerfully, to alleviate the moment.

—Wow, and I thought it would be a disadvantage.

—Why?

—Many people don't agree with your idea.

—Because they know nothing about language. I love languages; I'm always motivated to learn new things. I'm good with French. _Parlez vous Français?_

—What? I don't speak French.

—Oh come on! It's fun to be able to communicate in other languages. You should try it —and he patted his shoulder.

—Perhaps. Could you teach me a few words or phrases?

—Of course! I'll teach you to order breakfast, is all I can pronounce correctly —Thomas smiled. Christopher laughed.

—I think I got the best teacher of all Europe.

—I don't think so, but I'm flattered.

—Is this your first film?

—No. I did some television, but never anything as big, and massive as this project.

—Nor did I, this is a major challenge, but I know I can handle it, don't you think?

—I think so. There couldn't be a better option for Lord Daniel.

—Are you mocking me?

—I don't, honestly. And you can rest assured that I will support you at all times. You will be the best Lord Daniel who ever lived, because you have the best Count Lucio behind you.

Christopher gave an innocent smile, and Thomas felt a slight electric shock that provoked him a laugh, unlike the others. He had a variety of them, even a friend from acting school had made a classification of them, but today a new one was born.

—How would Zac name it?

—Excuse me? —Christopher asked.

—You were telling me about your recent trip...

—Oh yeah! You're right. I got sick, thankfully my brother came with me, he wants to be a singer —He took out his phone, made a little search, and showed him the screen—, See? He is Leo, my younger brother. The one next to him is my other brother, the eldest, Harry. He is a great businessman, a banker, happily married with children.

—Wow! A charming life —Thomas replied.

Christopher continued.

—Yes, while he was getting wife, I did some television series in Sydney. You see, a couple of years ago we were fortunate to meet a lovely man, Liam Rowand, I don't know if you know him? —Thomas shook his head from side to side—. It doesn't matter. This guy persuaded us to go to America with the promise of better opportunities. He rapidly convinced Leo and me, but my other brother...

—The banker?

—Yes, Harry. He disagreed with the decision we made. It didn't end well, but luck was on our side, because this guy got us several opportunities in America, I even was in a dance contest.

—Really? I love to dance.

—I... not so much.

—Why? It's pretty fun.

—I have two left feet.

—I don't know. I need to see it with my own eyes.

—Please don't.

Time ceased to run, or something happened with its tic tac. They talked for several hours, and they were diluted as ice in the sun; until the night arrived. The director watched from the door, and, admired, he told his assistant, who came closer.

—We couldn't have found a better pair. This will be great, just look at them.

—Did they already know each other, sir? Are they friends? —The assistant asked.

—No, they just met.


	2. Our Last Summer

**Chapter 2. Our Last Summer**

The train announced the departure. Thomas looked at his watch, it was six forty-five in the afternoon. He folded the evening paper he was reading, and got on board. Elinor had insisted on flying, but he reveled in the night views of London and Paris, marveled as if he was contemplating them for the first time. If he was not wrong, he would be around nine in the evening in the city of light. He carried his coat over his arm; he could already feel a slight heat. His ticket came marked with the date of the day June 20th, the summer was coming. Fortunately, he was dressed in cotton fabrics, fresh and comfortable for any kind of trip. He locked himself in his cabin to go over his lines for the umpteenth time. He had just read the words "Lord Daniel", and that name came back to his mind, Christopher.

What would become of him? I knew nothing about him. They had seen each other by the end of November last year; they talked for a long time, until the early hours. Thomas had enjoyed that entertaining talk. He closed the form and his eyes, and then he sighed. He missed him, the stranger who had told him about his life overnight. He had done the same, he had revealed such close and intimate details, and he could not remember that they had just met. But Thomas never imagined that Christopher was thinking the same thing while flying to Paris. The flight was delayed. He left Madrid at seven in the evening, when he should have done it since three o'clock. He had to be in the French capital at five for the dress rehearsal. He would arrive at nine in the evening, if everything went according to plan. He waited. The only entertainment he had was his cell phone, keeping him interested in a particular conversation.

A week after the meeting with Thomas, his friend and manager Liam made him an invitation to attend a charity event, the kind where the big rich and powerful men, accompanied by their glamorous wives, wasted generous amounts of money. The meeting stank and was would have left quickly had it not been for her, Elkie. The evening became bearable and even enjoyable. She was a pretty girl, working as a model, or that's what she said to him. They simulated to dance to a couple of melodies, flirted a little, exchanged phone numbers. They met again in December, and in January they had taken the next step, one where there was more contact. They began dating. So that could be considered a serious relationship. Between games and jokes, he proposed, she accepted. Since then they were a formal couple. Nobody knew about the new affair, they decided to keep it under strict secrecy, no press and scandals that could delay the blossoming romance.

Engaged in the initial months of the relationship, they kept sending each other messages or make short calls on any excuse. For this, the stay at the airport had not been so long and tedious. Strangely, when he entered the Parisian borders, he could feel a warm wind. Summer was coming hard. He looked out the window and could see the tip of the Eiffel Tower, he sighed to the glass and he came to his memory, Thomas.

He arrived to Paris on time; Thomas took a few minutes taking care of his luggage and the transportation to the hotel. He had booked a room in the _Ulvaeus_. There was hosted most of the crew. At that time, the cab turned on _Quai Branly_, he could behold the foundations of the imposing Iron Lady and the _Champs de Mars_. He undid the next button of his shirt; the weather was suffocating, or it maybe was the excitement. He felt a hint of freshness on his chest, and this comforted him. The fascinating horizon ended when the car joined _Lowendal Avenue_. He approached the place of their destination; he saw the advertisements on the streets.

Christopher landed at Orly airport at nine o'clock. He boarded a taxi twenty minutes later. He sent a new message to Elkie, telling her that he was on the way to the hotel, when his cell phone battery ran out. Not all endure the fast pace of a nascent courtship. Desperate to get to the hosting site and find a power source for your electronic device, he did not enjoy the fantastic view.

Thomas paid the driver and he left the car to help him with the luggage in the trunk. Engaged in the work, no one noticed the other taxi that was arriving. It parked right in front of them, since they were at the entrance of the hotel. Similarly, the other driver helped his client. Both made a pile of suitcases between the two cars. To avoid confusion with the other guest, Thomas rushed, but inadvertently took the same bag the other newcomer. That contact was familiar. Christopher dropped the suitcase he was carrying on his shoulder after noticing who had held his hand. Distracted by the phone and warned by the sense of touch, he acknowledged that caress.

—Chris! It is you! —Thomas exclaimed joyfully.

—Yes, I think so —he responded with the same emotion.

The embrace was immediate; it was as warm as the same summer start. Their heart rates speeded up and hands surrounded their backs. Both are imbibed on each other. The smile was the means to express the joy for having met again. They separated for a moment, kept together by holding their forearms.

—Your hair —Christopher pointed out— it's... Black and straight!

—Yes, Lucio demanded it —he laughed— and your hair is ... Pretty blond!

Christopher raised it again to smile a laugh.

—And longer, or are they extensions? —Thomas questioned, touching a lock of hair with his fingertips.

—No, so far, it's mine.

Thomas hugged him again. —For crying out loud! Chris! How great are you! I can bearly surround you, where is that surfer boy from Australia, eh? Where?

Christopher laughed again. —I think he's here, somewhere in a muscle I guess.

—Wow, you've exercised!

—Lord Daniel demanded it.

Thomas laughed. —True, all the nobility is fickle and demanding. Lord Daniel —and he bowed.

—Count Lucio —Christopher copied the gesture.

—It's my pleasure…

—For me.

Two porters came to assist with the luggage. Meanwhile, they entered the hotel lobby, still embraced. Thomas rested his arm on the shoulders of Christopher, and he held him in the back with the other arm. At the reception, they released each other, in order to let Thomas validate reservations. One was staying in the east wing and the other one on the west.

—It's done —Thomas said, giving the room key to Christopher.

—Thanks bro —he replied, adjusting his backpack, because it was slipping from his shoulder.

—Our paths diverge, I go right.

—I go left.

—The bad guys have another deal —he smiled.

—The goods have one better —he countered.

—I have no doubt —Thomas said as he played with his room key—. See you tomorrow. Good night.

—You too.

Christopher watched him go and he did the same. Room number twenty seven in the west wing. He entered and left the bags aside, sat down on the bed, a long moan was released. He rose to reach the phone. The receptionist answered and he kindly asked him to communicate with the room of Mr. Thomas Willdeston. The phone rang for a while, but no one answered. He wanted to invite him for a drink, not wanting to be alone at that time. He decided to pick him up personally. Thomas had been in the bath when the telephone bell had sounded. He needed to cool off as the heat was bothering him. He went to the balcony wrapped in bathrobe; he could see the Eiffel tower in the distance, breaking through the stars of heaven. The moon was nearly full and shone in the night mantle. Someone knocked on the door, he made sure that the bathrobe was locked and opened it. Christopher was saying hello with his hands in his pockets.

—Chris! Come in.

—I thought we should go for a drink, I dunno, what do you say?

—Sure, just let me change. It won't be long.

Thomas went to the bathroom, while Christopher leaned over the bed.

—I called but you didn't answer —he said looking at the ceiling.

—Sorry, I was in the bathtub —Thomas replied from the bathroom.

—I see.

—The heat was suffocating me.

—Weather changes, I know something about them. You'll be fine.

Thomas came out dressed in beige linen pants, a polo type shirt mustard color, and shoes of the same color. The man looked elegant by nature.

—Wow! I think I should've taken a shower before I came —said Christopher, watching Thomas attire.

—Why?

—I feel that I don't combine. Look at me, I look like a hobo.

—Don't be silly. I think you look great, let's go for that drink —he patted his back and both left the room. They decided to stay in the hotel's bar. Christopher really felt uncomfortable for its ungainly appearance. To take the idea out of his mind, Thomas suggested going shopping at the first opportunity. He accepted and spent the night quiet. When he returned to his room, and very late at night, Christopher found seven messages and three missed calls from Elkie. He immediately replied one message and fell on the bed. Recalling one of Thomas's jokes, he smiled himself to sleep.

Days later, everything was ready to start shooting the film. They had to make a daily trip of almost forty minutes to reach the _Château de Vincennes_, where the story of _LORD_ would come to life. Sheathed in medieval garb, Christopher suffered more than anyone else; the suit was too tight and hot. The poor complained. —Sometimes, I feel that it cuts off the circulation.

Thomas cracked a slight smile and tried to comfort him. Besides of making very few mistakes in the scenes together, they came out pretty well; in a few shots and quickly. Therefore, he occasionally got the privilege of a day off, which he devoted to explore the most famous places in the city of love. He was getting ready to leave immediately, only waiting for breakfast, remembering Elinor reprimanding him for skipping the most important meal of the day. The service came in and behind it Christopher appeared, who greeted him only with his hand.

—Merci —he said to the waiter. He looked at Christopher—. Hi! What are you doing up so early?

—I couldn't sleep, that knight costume is a torture. My entire back is hurt. I don't know how you can have so much fun in the action scenes. Besides, you don't want to use a stunt double, how many times did you do that jump yesterday?

—Eight.

—I'd love to have that vigor.

—Relax, lie in bed upside down, I'll give you a little massage —Thomas said approaching him.

—Ok —Christopher expressed with a spoiled tone—. Do I take off my sweatshirt?

—As you wish.

Christopher took off his sweatshirt, leaving him with a naked torso, and indeed, in the back certain marks and bruises could be seen, caused by the use of the Lord attire, added to the long, hard battle scenes.

—Chris! —He exclaimed in alarm—. You are badly hurt, it looks as if you had actually fought these battles, is the director aware?

—I was already checked by the doctor, and he gave me some inflammation reducers and told me to rest.

—Stay lying. You shouldn't have got up.

—Am I intruding you?

—Of course not, but I think you need to regain your strength. Have you had breakfast yet?

—No.

—In that case, come, let's take a snack. Every morning, I order a cup of tea, and it's always accompanied by a couple of croissants with ham and cheese. But I can get you something, what do you want?

—I'm not hungry. I already took the protein smoothie, I'm tired of it. What would I give for a beer and a double meat burger —he sighed.

—Right, Lord Daniel is very fond of the liquefied protein.

—Shut up. I'm in no mood for jokes.

—You let the bad mood go. Today I will spoil you, you are at rest by medical order, and so you can eat this croissant. Come on, those biceps won't deflate with a croissant, or will they?

Christopher smiled and took the singular flaky bun from Thomas's hand-; in two bites he ended with him.

—Neanderthal —Thomas muttered.

—It was delicious! Are you going to eat the other one? —Asked Christopher still chewing.

—Help yourself.

He had just inhaled the fragrant aroma of the mint tea he had ordered, when Christopher was done with the croissant. He looked up and that laugh that only he caused him appeared. Two more sips, he delicately cleaned his lips and put the cup on the table. He rose into the bathroom, and came out of it with clean hands and a tie on the neck.

—Are you going out? —Christopher questioned his hands resting on his legs.

—Yeah, it's a glorious day and I like exploring Paris.

—The Eiffel Tower?

—Not at the moment. I prefer walking by _Les Champs-Élysées_.

—And that means...?

—The Champs Elysées, the Parisians boast calling _la plus belle avenue du monde_, the most beautiful avenue in the world. It's an easy walk from the _Place de la Concorde_ to the _Arc de Triomphe de l'Étoile_.

—Well! It sounds like a fantastic adventure —Christopher got up the bed—. If you give me ten minutes, I'll take a bath and I'll go with you.

—But you have to rest...

—You're right, and as long as I'm far from that medieval suit, I will. What do you say?

—Uh, sure! Let's go! —Thomas replied raising his eyebrows.

Christopher unzipped his pants, ran to the bathroom and in less than seven minutes asked for a clean T-shirt and shorts. Thomas doubted he entered into his clothes, but when he looked him coming out with them on, the expression on his face turned to one of shock. Christopher looked good, slightly tight, however, it fitted.

—Don't you feel too tight?

—Not at all. There is no comparison between cotton, and leather. That suit is killing me, I didn't think my delay would cost me so much. I really hate that armor, although the part of waving the sword and riding a horse is great —He took his jeans from the floor, and while he put them on, he covered his head with a towel. He dried the hair and tied it with the hair band he was wearing on his wrist. He put on some sneakers and a sweatshirt. —Well, let's go —he said to Thomas.

They arrived at the Place of the Concorde, the second largest in France. The place was awesome. Christopher took the cellphone immediately, embraced Thomas, took many photos; in the Obelisk of Luxor, the Fountain of the Seas, in the Hittorff, he took others where the Hotel Crillon or church _La Madeleine_, and even the Eiffel Tower could be seen. They followed the trail to find the Palace of Discovery and Paris IV University. The avenue was fascinating, but Christopher thought not enough to compare with the Greek paradise. It was full of extravagant luxury shops and cafes, where surely you paid even for breathing the air that was inside. Thomas with his hands in his pockets examined every detail of the gardens, trees, buildings and people passing around. He was a great observer. Christopher in that moment wanted to become the owner of that gaze. He wanted all the attention of Thomas for himself, but he felt awkward to compete against one of the most famous cities in the world.

He remembered the conversations between Harry and Leo, which sometimes bored him, the ones about philosophy and politics. —_Poverty does not come by decreasing wealth, but by the multiplication of desires._

—What? —pronounced Thomas, after his thoughts were interrupted.

—Plato.

—Oh!

—You know, all this magnificence makes you think of the really valuable and important things in life…

There it was, he had done it; Thomas was attentive to his words. His speech began stammering a bit redundant, but as it progressed, it solidified. He expressed his view about the world's situation, to politics in general. Thomas kept interested in the comments. A discreet and soft line formed between his lips and cheeks, a delicate smile like the Mona Lisa. He never imagined that Christopher could address such complex issues, not because he believed he was an ignorant, but because he did not demonstrate his knowledge of that. They went into a modest cafe called _Monsieur, Monsieur_. The conversation reached the level of intangibility, the words no longer served to express the thoughts. They both laughed at being involved in existential issues. —I apologize for turning this meeting so boring —Christopher commented picking the lock of hair that was running down his forehead.

—What are you saying? No, I'm actually having so much fun as I didn't have in years —Thomas countered, still contemplating him—. I like to chat with you, Chris; I can say it's one of the things that please me the most.

—Harry would be proud of me —he smiled looking up.

—Why wouldn't he?

—Out of the three, he is the only one with a diploma from the University. I finished middle school and I went straight to acting, it was my true passion.

—Really? Wow! I also noticed since I was a kid that acting was my reason for being. My sisters, a few friends and I were preparing theatre plays, which we presented at the end of summer. We participated in everything from the script to the costumes. It was really fun —he confessed. Christopher replied with a smile.

They went their way, the Arc de Triumph was not far, but Thomas stopped at every café that draw his attention; glasses of wine, sweets and salty snacks. The mood of both of them was better than ever. When they left _Le Café Deauville_, Christopher grabbed Thomas by the waist, he smiled, placing his hand on the back of Christopher and walked up to _Place Charles-de-Gaulle_, where the majestic Napoleon's building was. They did not rid their union while crossing the street.

—What does that say Tom? —Christopher said when examining an inscription on the floor at the foot of the Arc.

_Ici repose un soldat français mort pour la patrie 1914-1918_

—Mmm —Thomas was released from him and crossed her arms—. Here lies a French soldier who died for his homeland 1914-1918.

Christopher looked at him, raised his eyebrows and twisted his mouth. Thomas saw it the same way. —That logo reminds me of Lord Daniel —Christopher explained patting his back.

—True, the shield and the flaming sword make me think the same. It's probably the tomb of a Lord Daniel.

—Right. Danny is famous around here.

Christopher smiled and took his waist again, but this time Thomas grabbed his shoulder. They entered the museum there was inside and learned the history of the inscription, it was a tomb dedicated to an anonymous soldier who had died in World War One. After touring through the facilities, they went up to the roof to see one of the most beautiful views of Paris. You could glimpse the mansions that stood on _Rond Point_ haughty, the shops on _Avenue Montaigne_ looked lavish, and in the distance you could see some boats sailing the sparkling waters of the Seine. The wind blew the hair of Christopher on his face; the twilight gave him a particular beauty. It was his eyes, his gaze, and his smile. It was a disturbing image. Thomas's heart was pounding; he feared being betrayed by the heart rate. —Maybe we should go shopping to _Montaigne_ —he said with some irony, since his conversation at noon. Christopher analyzed him, that delicate smile on his face drove him to perform an action that had previously only reserved for the female gender. He admired those green, glowing eyes in the dim sunlight. If only this lack of clarity was enough to carry out his impulses. He wanted to, as he had gotten his attention before, but he had not the courage.

He had ignored Thomas's sarcasm, their breathing quickened to the grade of a high sigh. They had no regard for anyone but them, observing each other. Christopher took him by the waist again. Thomas grabbed his arms and instantly understood the new Christopher's desire, and he knew at once it would not be denied in return. The Parisian spell had captured them. The sun fell to the night and with its last ray of day shone the two figures embraced at the top of the Napoleonic monument. Thomas thanked him on his ear for the splendid evening; his voice was melodic and sweet to throw these words: _I'm over the moon today, thank you_. It was figurative kiss. Christopher meanwhile, just brushed his lips over Thomas's cheek, partially fulfilling their desire.

—I think it's time to go —Thomas recited, ending the moment.

—I'm hungry —Christopher confessed.

—Do you want to have dinner?

—I'd love to.

They took a taxi to the _Avenue of Wragam_, both were silent. Thomas indicated the driver to stop at _Le Café de la Paix_. When descending, Thomas mentioned the closeness of the opera and Christopher suggested to attend another time.

—Is it a date? —He joked.

—A date? Yes, of course! A date —Thomas answered.

They went to the place, which was very elegant. Again, Christopher felt uncomfortable; he was not presentable for the occasion, too casual.

—You always put me in difficult situations Tom —he thought.

—What's up? Come on. The suit doesn't make the man Chris. Besides, you look very handsome, no one will notice your outfit, it just takes a look into your eyes to fall at your feet.

—Is that so? Then, look at me —he said playfully again. Thomas laughed, and they approached the site's host to confirm their reservation—. You had reservation?

—Sure! This place is quite popular. We'll be lucky if we find a table for two.

Fortune smiled on them, because they were assigned a table in a bright peaceful corner, away from all the noise, they could observe the Parisian night through the window. The waiter brought the menu and Christopher was guided by Thomas's suggestions. He ordered a _Croque-monsieur_ and _Boeuf Bourguignon_, Christopher a _Pot au Feu_ only because it was a large plate. The two would drink wine, _Georges Duboeuf_ harvest 2008. After a considerable wait, at least for what it seemed to Christopher, the food arrived. When the dish was in front of him he could not avoid complaining.

—Tom, what is this? More vegetables? You promised to spoil me.

—How?

—Today I won't eat vegetables, I want your sandwich.

—But…

Christopher changed the plates instantly, and without hesitation he bit the croque-monsieur. —That's what you get for making a bad choice for me —he said as he ate. Thomas smiled and called the waiter to order a _Croque-madame_, and while waiting he tasted the rejected dish. The boeuf and the other croquet appeared. Christopher childish tried everything that came to the table. The boeuf was accompanied by some pasta; the two put a fork in it at the same time.

—It's mine —Thomas said.

—Not if it arrives before to my mouth —Christopher hastened.

—We'll see.

Both of them devoured a long strip of pasta, the two pulled strongly; in the end, Thomas broke the cooked flour band by moving his face aside. —I let you win, if we had continued, we would've ended like _Lady and the Tramp_ —he alluded between laughter, the one that emitted when he was nervous.

—It doesn't matter, I won. Score for Lord Daniel!

—We'll see how much of a Lord Daniel you are when you lose the condition.

—Boo! Be quiet, puny mortal, and ask for the dessert, something very sweet —he observed the shocked face of Thomas and he pointed—. You lost, so the dessert, come on, the dessert. How do you say "we want dessert" in French?

—Okay Lord Daniel, we'll celebrate your victory in style.

_Tarte Tatin_ was the award for the winner, a French dessert made from caramelized apples used in weddings and large celebrations. After dinner, they walked all the way back to the Place of the Concorde and then followed the route of the River Seine.

—We should ride on a ship.

—Didn't you mention the opera?

—Yes, both.

—I remember you and I came here to work. Besides, I don't have much money.

—I know, but we can make time for everything. Next time I'll pay.

—I want to believe that.

—You have two upcoming dates with me.

—Ok, but I want to go dancing.

—¿Dancing?

—Yes, and shopping too.

—So, there are four.

—Right.

Christopher hugged him tightly and asked. —And when are you and I sleeping together?

—What?

—I was just kidding.

—Today you are full of humor, aren't you?

—Possibly.

—I thought I was the ideal choice to play the jester and trickster Count Lucio.

—You are.

—After seeing you like this, I doubt it. What would everyone think of seeing a Lord Daniel so funny?

—That he finally found happiness he had sought.

He hugged him again and Thomas lost his balance for a moment due to the force of it. Christopher smiled shyly and released him. The Eiffel Tower looked bigger as they proceeded. They maintained the course of the Seine, and, like him, the two walked without saying anything. One of them saw his feet while walking and the other the reflection of the stars on the water. None noticed the closeness between his hands, that restless and mischievous began a flirtation. First, the clueless friction, the palms then came closer, they took the position of discrete caress and fingers turn cohered the link on the ridges, and that's how Christopher and Thomas printed the force required to follow a method of communication that did not use an oral or a written language.

They arrived at the hotel without breaking their recent union. They were like a newly formed molecule, an undiscovered element of the periodic table. The watch on Thomas' wrist marked the one and twenty one in the morning, the friendly ride had lasted over twelve hours. There was almost no one at the reception; only a man in the distance, who was talking to one of the bellboys. As they moved forward, Christopher recognized this guy was Liam, his manager. Thomas tried to pull off after realizing the identity of the subject, but Christopher did not allow him, he greeted his friend without freeing its companion.

—What are you doing here? —Christopher asked.

—I heard that you got hurt and came to see how you were —said Liam.

—I'm fine, nothing to be alarmed of, just a few bruises.

—Are you sure?

—Yeah!

—Elkie is worried…

—Who is Elkie? —Thomas interrupted him.

—His girlfriend. He is trustworthy, right? — Liam said to Christopher, as he pointed to Thomas. Christopher first remained silent, and then confirmed that he was dating her—. Dating? Oh, come on Chris! It's more serious than that! —He exclaimed. He approached Thomas and talked to him in a low tone—. Our dear Chris is very fussy, he didn't want to go public for reasons only he knows, and as Elkie is so devoted to the love, Chris does what he wants, don't you my friend?

Thomas felt the strength of their bond with Christopher drain, and he could escape.

—Uh... yeah, something like that —Christopher accelerated rubbing his neck with his hand that still held Thomas' heat. He apologized for not presenting each other properly. A few minutes of spontaneous gossip, some comments out of place and forced laughter were enough to excuse Thomas, who was tired and wanted to lie down. Despite the insistence of his companions to keep him with them, he declined. He returned to his room and closed the door leaning against it; he raised his hand of the union, watching it as if it were unknown to him. He made a slight curve on his face, as a smile, and pronounced the name of the woman out loud: Elkie.

He chose to sleep only with his underwear on and a cotton shirt without sleeves. He drank some water sitting on the edge of the bed. He put his feet, he dozed for a long time, while hearing a low and constant thumping in the distance. He awoke to realize where the sound came from. Someone knocked on the door. The clock on the bureau showed the two thirty-two in the morning. —Who's there? —He said half-tone, but got no response. He grabbed the handle, rotated it, and after the door opened, it revealed the image of Christopher, who apologized for interrupting his rest. He explained that he and Liam had taken a couple of beers, but the second had ended intoxicated by its unfamiliarity and because of the intense summer heat. He had tried to sleep, but Liam did not permit him because of his snoring and gesticulations. He was hurt, tired and wanted to recover energy. Thomas agreed to give a place to stay for the night, but he said he did not know if he snored or fumbled too. He replied that he would look for another solution and if that happened. Thomas laughed nervously and leaned on the left side of the bed, where he had been before. Christopher stripped down to his underwear. Thomas, far from admiring his body, felt a deep sorrow to see all the wounds from playing Lord Daniel. Christopher took the right side of the mattress; he covered half of his body with a blanket, turned off the light following the example of Thomas. Both said good night. Thomas turned to give his back and put his hands under the pillow closing his eyes. The other gave a deep sigh and said with sincerity.

—I want to be safe, and do things right.

—What? —Thomas replied, opening his eyes.

—Elkie…

—Who? —He asked, despite knowing the answer.

—The girl I'm dating.

—Oh! Now I remember.

—I didn't mention her because I don't want to create false expectations.

It was too late. Someone already had them.

—I get it —Thomas said automaticaly.

—We are in a process... Not that I'm with her and someone else at the same time, but... I want to be sure.

—I understand. It's important, the illusions are dangerous, they confuse us. Eventually they can be painful.

—You're right. I only clarify because I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me.

Thomas remained silent. Christopher wished him a good night again and copied Thomas' gesture one more time. He heard him coughing a bit, but did not flinch; he closed his eyes and fell asleep. Christopher could not sleep, he found strangeness in the words of Thomas; it was neither anger nor irritarion, not even indifference. What was it? He turned his face and saw the silhouette under the covers, he turned his face back, glanced at the bureau where a couple of books piled up,_ Mrs. Dalloway_ by V. Woolf and _Le mythe de Sisyphe_ by A. Camus. Without having read them, he immediately understood that who slept beside him was an encrypted character of complex and elaborate emotions. However, he could smile; such expression may not match with a feeling of joy, but contain terrible suffering. He sat up frightened; for him all afternoon had been fantastic, and what for Thomas? A catastrophe maybe. He watched him, surrendered to the son of Hypnos; so pleased that looked like a smart, playful, friendly, coy and curious child. He resembeled the one Joyce described in his book of the adolescent. Again he leaned back, however this time close to him, surrounding him with one arm. He could not guess his true feelings, but he could have him while he was asleep, at least for a few hours; he pressed his nose to Thomas' nape and he could finally surrender to the arms of Morpheus too.

The call of next day was scheduled at ten o'clock; regularly, it was at seven, due to issues on the production, now it initiated at that time. Thomas felt a slight tingling in the forehead, he opened his eyes a few minutes before eight, recognized the chin covered in amber hairs. He smiled, closed his eyes again, felt his right hand attached to him, and his breath hit his hair gently. New and a bit alarming, who could imagine such a possibility? He refused to accept the truth; he was undoubtedly the hero who lived in his dreams. When he saw him characterized as Lord Daniel, his mind made a way to the dream world, where that gallant knight would rescue him from all, even from himself.

That site looked like the one the twelve princesses used to dance all night with their princes, where the trees were gold, silver and diamonds. To create it had helped in various ways to minimize the divorce of their parents; thirteen, a teenager, but the love of his sisters was the main factor to get past it, there was his escape. Later, the dream world got its realization in acting; the stage became the means to fulfill all possible and unattainable dreams. In it, he could be a brother, friend, lover, husband, man, boy, old man, king, prince, duke, commoner, needy, thief, vagabond, villain, sorcerer, witch, woman, goddess, nymph, wife, mistress, the feminine, the masculine, the erotic, the carnal, the libidinous, the chaste, the demure, the honest, the spiritual, the love, the hate, God, the devil.

He reached his hand out, drew it slowly so as not to wake Christopher, his face was millimeters away from it. His face looked serene; he understood perfectly the feeling of the lunar deity when he beheld the face of the sleeping shepherd. He rested his forehead on his. —Maybe —was said in thought; a soft, delicate and warm thought. He could give a present that would not give him immortality as the pastor, however, it would express a sentiment so far saved, nonexistent, motionless, and inert. No one would know, not even Christopher. But he was aware of the movements of his companion; he felt the liveliness of the forehead. He could conceive Thomas' lips right in front of his, a blush flushed his cheeks and his breathing slightly accelerated. He was desperate to open his eyes, clenched eyelids however, if he had that divine face so close to his, he could not stop himself, he would do it; this time the courage emanated from his own veins. He wanted to print, flush, rush on the mouth. Thomas pressed his lips on one another until he bit them; he separated their foreheads and got out of bed. He needed to get out, walk, run; he felt a huge sorrow on his back. He was buttoning his pants when Christopher greeted him as he stretched.

—Good day, are you going? Will you call me?

—What? —Thomas questioned distracted.

—It's a cliché to get rid of one night stands...

—Oh, I see! Was this a one night stand? —Thomas said with a serious tone.

—No! Of course not, I just…

—Ehehehehe —he laughed—. I'm just kidding, do you want breakfast? I'll go out to get something, wait.

After expressing the latter, he left the room. At the reception he requested a lightweight service for Christopher, and then he went for a run on the bank of the Seine avoiding any thought of his new appetite. When the playlist on his mp3 player ended, he returned to the room. Christopher was gone, all that remained on the bureau was note that read: "Thanks for letting me sleep with you. Chris ". He put the note on one of the books and took a shower before going to the place of the shooting.

The days of recording became more tiresome, rewriting scenes, incorporating characters. The time they spent together, off the set, was scarce. Thomas began to make friends with a girl from the cast, named Candice Lewis, a beautiful young actress responsible for giving life to Davina, the Lady Janeth's bridesmaid, the love interest of Lord Daniel in the story. Christopher saw them having fun between scenes and during the meals, he listened them making plans to go out for a walk in Paris. The interactions with Thomas looked diminished because of their good rapport, because while filming the movie, they did not need to repeat or do extra takes, the scenes came out in two or three attempts. After these, Candice got Thomas' attention, they no longer had an ample opportunity to converse and have fun together. Deep down, the situation bothered him.

—I'm a good dancer, my feet move to the beat of the music —said Thomas.

—You have to prove that —said Candice.

—Maybe this Saturday.

—That would be fantastic!

—There aren't so many scenes scheduled.

—We can go to trendy club. I think Björn mentioned one near _Montmartre_.

—_Le Moulin Rouge_?

—No! —Candice laughed leaning on the chest of Thomas—. Sorry. In the Latin Quarter, I think it's called _Honey Honey_.

—Sounds like a place overflowing with love...

Candice's laugh made Christopher's fork slide, and reject vegetarian dish he had in front of him. The wardrobe was still uncomfortable despite the arrangements, and the food was not so nice. He was bored, and because of this, got each scheduled scene wrong. Thomas related it to an accumulated fatigue; he remembered how uncomfortable the attire was and excused him. The director gave them the rest of the afternoon free, as there was no way forward. Thomas went to the trailer to take the garb of the Count Lucio off. Christopher reached him halfway there.

—Hey, Tom! Wait —Christopher said putting his hand on Thomas' shoulder.

—What's going on?

—What do you say if we finally go out shopping?

—It'd be great, but I told Candice we'd go dancing.

—Oh! I see.

—You can come with us, if you want…

—Dancing, eh? —He spoke discouraged. Unable to make a formal reply, Christopher responded Liam's greeting. He approached—. What's up! You again? Now what? —He said, opening his arms.

—Hey! What a welcome! —Liam replied—. Hey Tom! How are you doing?

—Hey! I'm good —he said—. What are you doing here?

—I was close to town and decided to come and visit —Liam turned to Christopher—. Guess what? —Christopher smiled and Liam continued— Elkie was about to accompany me, but in the end a pretty good job offer came out, and she had to fly to America.

Christopher looked at Thomas to discover if Elkie was the reason for their distancing, but found no disturbance in his face or eyes. —It's a shame —he said.

—Yes, I know, but that doesn't mean we can't have fun, right? What are your plans?

—Thomas invited me to dance.

—You? Dance? Yes, of course! He has reproached me since I recommended him for a dance television program. We better go out to dinner or a beer.

—I gladly would accept —Thomas expressed—, but I already have a commitment. Sorry, but you two go, have fun. Paris is a great place to do it.

—We'll all go dancing —Christopher said quickly.

—What? Are you serious? —Liam asked alarmed.

—Yeah! I'm sure.

—Wow! That I have to see, of course we'll go.

Christopher chose a casual outfit, but more formal than he was used to. Knowing Thomas, the place would be graceful, so he arranged for his blue jeans, brown moccasins, white shirt; he was undecisive for wearing a brown leather jacket or khaki jacket. He chose the khaki one. Without knowing why, he wanted to impress him, because he was really paying attention to every detail of his arrangement. They would meet Thomas at the doors of the nightclub; he would be waiting after eleven. Christopher had finished with his appearance before and immediately sought out Liam in his room and they went to _Honey, Honey_. They waited for Thomas fifteen minutes, he and Candice got out of a taxi. They looked happy.

—We're sorry —Thomas apologized. He seemed a bit drunk—, dinner lasted too much.

—Dinner? —Christopher said, imitating a smile.

—Yes, we went to the _Santa Rosa_.

—Yes! —Confirmed Candice, excited—. He owed me a date.

—It comforts me to know that he keeps his promises —Christopher murmured.

—How do you say? —Candice asked.

—It comforts me to know that you're here, can we go now?

—Sure! —Thomas replied. Liam, impressed by Candice's beauty, decided to accompany her, leaving Thomas alongside Christopher. They were side by side; Thomas looked at him from head to toe and did not hesitate to throw a compliment—. You look great Chris.

He smiled; he left the moodiness aside and patted his back. The atmosphere was at its peak, the dancefloor bursting with people lured by the dance, enjoying at a rhythm reminiscent of the disco's days. Thomas began to shake slightly. —That music invites me to the party —he said.

_When everybody's looking at you, crying's not the right thing to do…_

Christopher watched him attentive. He could not hear clearly, due to excessive sound. He just heard the soprano voice that jutted.

_D D D Dance your pain away. D D D Dance your pain away. Let there be rumors. Pay no attention…_

Thomas pulled Christopher from his forearm. —Come on, Chris! Let's see how you move! —He said. Christopher followed him without putting up resistance. He could not take his eyes off him; he danced with an incomparable grace. He was like Terpsichore or Tilottama.

—_You are the dancing king_ —Christopher stammered with bright eyes.

—Come on! —Thomas screamed.

—_Young and sweet…_

—What!

Christopher moved his feet awkwardly, trying to imitate the rhythm of his companion. He, shaked his hips and raised his arms, his steps were rhythmic and marked, so that he soon formed a small procession around. Christopher felt no intimidation whatsoever, on the contrary, was overflowing with pride because he, and nobody else, was the dance partner.

—You hear it? —Thomas asked.

—What?

—Dance your pain away.

—Of course!

Thomas' energy filled him completely, after years of avoiding any kind of dance, full of sudden movements, that day he carried away; enjoyed the music, the voice, the lyrics, the company. The two were seized in a warm embrace at the end of the song.

—You're a liar Chris, you dance amazingly!

—That's not true.

—Of course it's true!

—Brother, what a way to move! —Liam added surprise—. If you had done it that way in the contest, and you would've won.

—I wanna dance with both! —Candice declared.

Christopher was so pleased that he accepted right away, now he pulled Thomas to satisfy the desire of the young lady. Liam brought some drinks while the three were moving in accordance with the tune. The evening continued and Christopher forgot the strange dislike for Candice, because he noticed her excited with Liam. Thomas had danced with some few women, and Christopher had rejected some others. The temperature increased with the frenzy of the dancers, so, Christopher went to the bar looking for more drinks. And while waiting to be served by the bartender, he heard the friends of the young woman dancing with Thomas at the time.

—He will ask for your phone, sure —one of them said.

—He moves incredible and it's a "hottie".

—Yes, Lisa is lucky.

He heard other qualities attributed to Thomas, he ordered another round of whiskey and while turning again, he noticed that one of the girls approached him.

—Hi! —She finished putting her hand to her waist.

—Hey!

—My friend —she pointed to another girl in the distance—, says you're too good to be real.

—Hahaha, is that what she said? —Christopher replied with irony.

—Yes, she also told me I wouldn't get to dance with you, because you have rejected most of the invitations. But I told her she was lying, you are also a gentleman like your friend, right?

—I am, my name is Lord Daniel.

—Lord, eh? And your friend, Tom?

—Actually, he lied to you; his name is Lucio, but he likes to flirt with some girls —Christopher interrupted with complete sarcasm.

—Oh!

—To tell you the truth, he's my boyfriend —Christopher said smiling.

—What! —The woman exclaimed frightened.

—He is. Why do you think I've only danced with him and his friend? He is very jealous, controlling, liar, manipulative, envious and...

—Enough! —The woman screamed.

—In spite of all of that, I love him —he ended with a shrug, drawing an innocent smile as he raised his eyebrows and held the palms of hands extended in front of the chest. He apologized for the harshness of his words. A sweet song with a slow pace flooded the place. It was the same voice, inviting him to get his partner. Again He is pretext—. Sorry honey, songs like that are what he likes most.

_I see it every time, when I look into your beautiful eyes…_

He walked to find Thomas in the crowd. It took a more elaborate excuse to take him away this Lisa.

—I'm sorry —Christopher articulated rushed, taking Thomas over the middle—. Dance with me.

—What? —Thomas smiled nervously; he let out the laughter caused by nerves and took Christopher's hand.

—You're going to hate me after this.

—For dancing?

—Because I destroyed your community of fans —and with his eyes he indicated the table of girls who spoke among them, without taking his eyes off them.

—Fans?

—Yeah —and Christopher told him about the conversation with one of them. Thomas burst out laughing.

—My boyfriend? Christopher Hentzwood, my boyfriend?

—Yeah, what's wrong?

—Nothing. It doesn't sound bad. I could carry the name Hentzwood, Thomas Hentzwood or better Christopher Willdeston...

—I mentioned boyfriend, not husband.

—Ehehehehe. Anyway, it's not the name for me.

—Everyone would think that we're brothers.

—You're right, although... We could use a combination of our names, "that's trendy".

—Something like "ChrisTom".

—Oh, come on! Be more inventive; it must sound sweet to the ear and be spoken with ease. Maybe "Henzton" or "Willdezwood".

—We'll see.

—Wait! How could that be possible? I'm Lord Daniel's boyfriend, not yours.

—Count Lucio is Lord Daniel's, you're Count Lucio and I'm Lord Daniel.

—I forgot, it doesn't matter, neither of them has formally asked me.

—Do you want me to "kneel"?

—Do you have a ring?

—No, but… —He checked his pockets—, I have a hippie bracelet, does that work?

—Maybe —Thomas said, he stopped and reached his arm out so that Christopher would tie the bracelet.

—Now we're boyfriends?

—Nope.

—Why not?

—Because not! —He played—; besides, you've never asked me.

Christopher smiled, puffing his cheeks maximum. —That's not a problem. Tom will you be my boyfriend?

—What do you say?

—Tom will you be my boyfriend? —Christopher reaffirmed approaching him.

—Yes! Why not?

_How much I want to be the one who loves you now..._


End file.
